By the Lights of Their Eyes
by AwfulLawful
Summary: Prequel to Albus Potter and the Perils of Values Dissonance. Harry Potter discovers a pureblood breeding circle in an undercover mission for the Ministry. What he finds there disturbs him on levels he didn't know existed.


This is a prequel to Albus Potter and the Perils of Values Dissonance. The entire story started as a drabble to amuse myself and evolved into a story all its own before I could stop it. This is the beginning of the tale in which Harry gets more than he bargained for in a routine rescue mission. Enjoy.

* * *

It was incredibly difficult to do any undercover work with such a recognizable face as Harry Potter. None the less he persevered and, with the help of a renowned Potioneer, utilized a brew similar to Polyjuice that merely mixed the features of the donator and recipient to create a completely unique facade. Currently his normally untidy jet-black hair curled neatly atop his head in a way that caught the light at various angles that caused it to shine a much lighter shade of brown when he moved. His trademark scar was gone and skin a bit darker with a few freckles here and there. Most importantly of all, he knew, was the fact that his memorable almond shaped emerald eyes were a golden brown that wouldn't be seen as unique or unusual at all. The dark-eyed tightly curled blonde that had lent him a few hairs was as far from Harry as could be imagined in appearance while still keeping the overall facial features similar and it had done well.

With his Auror's robes exchanged for the street wear of any random wizard Harry Potter, or rather Emrick Selwyn, was ready for this case.

It was a _nasty_ one, too.

The Ministry had taken great pains to monitor the families involved in the Death Eater activities after the war to ensure no more mischief went on, that they didn't cause any more trouble. As a result of the animosity the Ministry was rife with there hadn't been many reports of the overwhelming rates of young pure-bloods disappearing until it was too late to stop hundreds of them from all over the world ending up gone without a trace. At first it was believed they were being murdered, a shame since there were some pretty young kids in the mix, and only blood purity seemed to be a factor.

But his work had paid off and Harry had discovered something.

Pure-blood fanaticism had gotten worse in the underground after so many had been killed in the battle. Reproductive predators (that being sexual predators with intent to procreate) had risen in numbers dramatically. Harry had seen a lot of the traditional lines lamenting even the blood-traitors that had been killed fighting for freedom against their Lord in interrogations and infiltrations. They were encouraging cousins to inter-breed at such a ferocious rate that even the newlyweds were beginning to split off and marry muggle-borns and half-bloods because so many of their infants were born with deformities.

There was no such thing as pure-blood anymore, and never would be again (though truly there hadn't been for 300 years at least, and they knew it). The future generations now knew the toll their ancestors' insistence on keeping lineage within the family clans had wrought. Too many infants had been stillborn or died soon after birth, or ended up in St. Mungo's for intensive care due to malformations and genetic disabilities. Many of the newly married couples had been tested after infertility and one or both partners had been discovered sterile or too closely related to be married legally in the first place. The families had hidden the rising instances of this for generations, carefully altering, neglecting or keeping private their family trees until it was difficult to tell whom was honestly related to whom to dangerous levels.

Though it was honestly a horrific thought; the Ministry had strongly considered laws banning pure-blood pairs anymore. Harry had done his best to stop them, since he knew a few couples that had intentionally sterilized themselves and begun adopting who were legitimately in love. That wasn't fair, would do no good, and was just as bad as any other discrimination he could think of. Yet no matter the efforts to cease the inbreeding, there were channels to go through not even the Ministry could stop.

There were host club services popping up all over the world, promising 'traditional and authentic company' that ultimately turned out to be pure-blood matchmaking. The concept was that eligible and willing pure-bloods would submit their pedigrees, go over testing to verify them and offer themselves for dates at a price. Normally this wasn't strictly prostitution as there were strict rules against sex and leaving with your customers (who also had to submit their pedigrees and test documents to participate), but Harry had found far too many of the missing breeding age pure-bloods turning up in these places.

They fell into several categories.

First there were those who had joined out of desperation to find a compatible pure match and hadn't told their families either out of shame or reputation. Those who worked the host clubs lived there for the most part and had meetings all night, sleeping during the day to prepare for the next round of potential mates. They usually only contacted their families after a marriage contract had been solidified.

Second there were those who had literally been sold into it by their families in other countries that didn't have laws against human trading for certain reasons. Harry had found people from ancient lines of natives and aboriginals from practically everywhere on display in their native garb like a damned doll collection for sale, but at the very least the business seemed to know better than to keep everyone in their native country; this was a game in combining unrelated pure blood lines, not worsening the dilemma further.

Third were the stolen children of families under Imperius that were being controlled and sold like permanent prostitutes into matches against their will. When married they would be forced into a bond of magic they couldn't escape without mutual agreement by their spouse to terminate it. Some were treated as legitimate spouses, but Harry knew of at least three that had been treated no better than the fourth group of poor souls in these establishments.

Fourth and most horrifying of all were the 'brood mares'; girls that had been force-fed fertility potions and rented out essentially as incubation tanks. They were kept in basements, cells, _occasionally_ nice rooms, but were always either raped or artificially inseminated, pregnant and near insane knowing the baby would be snatched from them immediately after birth and they'd simply be rented out again.

Lastly there was a fifth and poorly researched section composed of sterile purebloods unsuited for breeding. They were nothing but toys or sperm receptacles for those that had grown weary of their wives and simply wanted something else to bugger for a while and wouldn't think of touching anything but a pure stock. They were the poorest kept and least cared for, seen as useless for anything but occasional entertainment. There was no distinction between male or female in these seediest of rooms. They were rented for everything from sex to pets to torture, and the only rule Harry could find regarding their value was what must be paid if you accidentally killed one of them. He had no idea what age range was there, but he was positive he wouldn't like it.

The surface of the host clubs were clear, understandable and even acceptable. Even Harry couldn't blame the remaining pure-bloods from trying to keep their heritage alive as long as they could. It was something he thought of as a personal choice, and one they had every right to make.

AHThe deeper rungs of the clubs were not acceptable under any circumstances. Unfortunately the only way he could think to prove anything conclusively was to pose as a customer.

Harry was here to make a purchase, something he knew they had against the rules in their own charter but was done frequently. He was here (and the thought sickened him to the point where he could barely form the words in his mind) to buy a wife. He could choose any nationality but European, any age he wanted that could breed starting at thirteen, and specify whether or not things that wouldn't carry on in the genes like scars, blindness, handicaps and the like due to injury were acceptable. He had chosen as well as he could; an over sixteen girl from the unplottable areas of Australia. She was missing an arm, but 'Mr. Selwyn' insisted he could simply buy her a prosthetic and it didn't matter so long as she could bear.

He was checked over and over for the purchase, verifying his papers, history, health, virility and all other things they could think of to ensure that he, too, would be able to make use of her before the purchase was allowed. When she was led to him she met his eyes with a dull, placid look he knew from Imperius. Her smile was blank and too unfeeling and her words seemed to pull out of her as if they were someone else's entirely. Harry took note of every minute detail so he could use them in a Pensieve later and testify she'd been victimized and unwillingly married off.

Moments after he handed over the Galleons required to take her home and had the documentation of her pedigree firmly in hand, the Unspeakables flew in like rabid Thestrals to raid the place.

Harry himself handed his new 'wife' over for rescue before storming into the bowels of the building to free anyone he could find. It was slow, war-like, bloody, exhausting work and took them nine hours to capture all of those in command. But eventually they succeeded and Harry was standing at the door to the very last door in the basement where the rentals were being kept. Steeling himself for another body just in case, he burst through the door.

There, in the center of the room, lie the body of a man Harry knew well was a frequent customer here. His head was concave in the back- someone had hit him hard enough to collapse his skull. Harry was morbidly grateful it hadn't been him. He'd killed three people tonight trying to capture them, and didn't think he could handle it again even for a rescue. Speaking of.

He reached out instinctively before consciously registering the reflex. The wrist he caught was pulled roughly toward him until the hidden body came into his sight. Instantly his hand relaxed to a less crushing force when he saw what he'd captured. First however, the boy stunned him.

Only once before had he met someone whose entire being seemed dominated by the eyes. Tom Riddle in the visions Harry had seen possessed piercing dark eyes that were the very first thing you saw when you looked at him; they promised danger and pain. These eyes were decidedly different, but were no less startling in their ability to garner immediate attention. Grey and strangely blank, as if no emotion had or ever would flow out of them, with centers so black and empty Harry felt he could drown in them. They were larger than they should be, dominating the boy's face in a way that made him appear unearthly and, hopefully, younger than he really was.

"I had to," he said in a dead, cold voice as he looked toward the body on the floor.

Just then Harry realized there was a thick steel ladle in the boy's hand, covered with blood at the top. A wave of pity went through him and he knelt, taking the ladle away and tossing it aside. "It's alright. I'm sure nobody will blame you for it."

"He tried to kill me when the raid started."

Harry shook his head. "You're in shock. You don't need to justify your actions to me. I believe you."

The boy, who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, stared at Harry as if he were looking through glass. "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter. Come on. I'll take you up to the others. They'll help you, and we'll get you justice. Now, what's your name?"

" Eadric Falconeri."

Harry nodded and put an arm around the boy's shoulder to walk him out, knowing without having to ask that it was a fake name, but the best that he would get. Hopefully, Harry thought fiercely, he hadn't found another Tom Riddle.


End file.
